


Curiosity

by BunniesAndBooks



Series: The Christmas Calendar [6]
Category: Glee
Genre: Body Worship, F/M, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 11:28:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2849300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BunniesAndBooks/pseuds/BunniesAndBooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 6. Kurt/Santana<br/>Prompt: Kurt gets curious about how girl's bodies work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Curiosity

It's something that he's been curious about for the last weeks, or rather more accurately, for the past few months. He hasn't been able to stop thinking about it, to stop dreaming about it – to stop imagining doing something about it. He isn't even certain in the least _why_ this is on his mind recently. It's not like anything has changed; it's not like he isn't gay anymore, not like he has a sudden dislike for the male body, and more specifically, not an out of the blue surprising dislike for cock. Nor is it like he's suddenly interested in girls either – he still finds them to be beautiful creatures, if not hard to understand at some points, but he doesn't find them attractive in the least. He doesn't have a new interest in boobs, or curves at all for that matter.

He's just... curious, he guesses. Just wondering more than is probably healthy about _how_ the female body works. It's just a desperate and somewhat ridiculous need to _know_. To experiment and find out for himself just what the big deal is.

Santana had been all too willing; saying that none of the boys she'd slept with had ever wanted anything but simply fucking her. And that while she was obviously on board with doing just that, 'cause well, _duh_ , it would be nice to for once be the center of attention and not be forced to fake an eager reaction if not earned. It wasn't expected from their deal, as it actually would rather defeat the purpose of the whole thing for Kurt in the first place if she did that. All she really needed to do was lay there and let Kurt do what he wanted.

Which was really just seeing what made girls tick.

Though, despite knowing exactly what he'd bargained for when asking Santana for this, Kurt still blushed a furious red when she'd shed every single article of clothing from her slim body before laying down bored – yet unexpectedly invitingly – on his bed, completely unashamed of his presence. Though that should have been expected, shouldn't it? However it was, this was the first time Kurt had ever seen anybody beside himself naked. Because despite what everybody accused him of in the McKinley locker room, he had never even tried to subtly sneak a peek at the other boys there, too afraid of what might happen if someone found out. So watching Santana spread her legs apart and teasingly caressing her tanned thighs with her nails was slightly overwhelming to say the least.

“What Lady Hummel?” she drawled out tauntingly. “Not getting cold feet are we? 'Cause you actually had me excited there for a moment. Though I can't say I'm all that surprised. I _am_ a whole lotta woman,” she finished, spreading herself even further apart and dragging one hand over her bare stomach and breast, squeezing gently at the supple flesh, letting out a soft, almost quiet, moan.

“I'm not nervous,” Kurt says vehemently, though the trembling quality in his voice doesn't even convince _himself_ of his words.

Santana only rolls her eyes and stretches out on the bed, purring contentedly at the silken sheets dragging against her curves. “Right, could've fooled me. Now are you gonna get going, I do have other places to be, other people to see.”

This time it was Kurt who rolled his eyes, because that statement could only mean that she was meeting up with Brittany after this; the ditzy blonde who was the only one that could ever have Santana rushing somewhere, everybody else would just have to wait for her to grace them with her self-proclaimed glorious presence.

But anyway, it might be a good idea to start things some time soon; his father would only be out of the house for little over an hour or so more, and Kurt really didn't want to be found with a naked girl in his bed. That would surely be far worse than when Burt had found him making out with Brittany that one time, and this time he couldn't blame it on trying to be straight, something which his father would surely suspect him of doing.

And if he didn't do anything soon, Kurt wasn't sure he would ever get the courage to.

So taking a deep breath Kurt walked over to the bed, and started to lift his boot-clad foot to kneel on the mattress beneath the naked Latina.

“Hey, wait up,” Santana commandeered, raising herself up on her elbows. Raking her eyes over his designer clothes she only raised her eyebrows. “You gotta lose those first.” Kurt didn't even manage to open his mouth before she continued. “No way am I gonna be able to get wet for you if you insist on wearing something that screams _virgin_. Trust me, I've been with too many of those to be able to tell you that they're a complete turn-off. Now loose the clothes before I dry up completely here Porcelina.”

Tired of arguing with her – McQueen knows they'd done enough of that on the short drive over from school – Kurt merely bent down and begun unleashing his shoes. Then fallowed the three layers of shirts and the wickedly tight jeans that he had to shimmy his way out of, all of which got folded primly and set on his desk for later, before he looked back at the bronze-skinned girl. She was only gazing back at him with one raised eyebrow, clearly waiting, and with a grumpy little huff Kurt kicked off the briefs he wore as well, finally standing before her completely bare and wanting to shield his body from her exploring gaze.

When the only thing he received from her after she'd given him a quick once-over was a low hum before she fell back against the bed Kurt rolled his eyes, but he was at least happy she hadn't jabbed at him about the little pudgy bit of his stomach that refused to disappear no matter how much he exercised, nor saying anything about his pear hips, or even worse than that – comparing him in full detail to all the other guys she'd been with that would surely leave him scarred for life.

So all in all, Kurt figured, a hum was really rather good in the end.

Returning once more to the bed Kurt at last kneeled on it, considering how he wanted to go about this. He could start straight with the main event and bypass all the other things, going directly to her vagina, but that seemed rather rude and tasteless to Kurt so he dismissed that immediately. His idea to start with her boobs, since they seemed to be very popular and unfrightening things to play with and explore was also tossed aside, because of just that – every other boy would go straight for a girl's boobs. Not that he wanted to stand out or anything, he didn't much care whether or not he would be remembered in Santana's long line of lovers, but because he refused to be likened to the common and boring things called straight teenage boys.

No, instead he crawled his way over the bored Latina, resting over her on his knees and elbows as he leant down and began to kiss and nibble on her jaw.

“Geez, Hummel,” Santana droned, closing her eyes tiredly. “If you think kissing my cheek will get me hot and bothered you have another thing coming, because guess what Twinkerbell? It really doesn't. I'm not into all that lovey dovey shit, remember?”

“I thought the point of all this was for you to just shut up and _lie there_?” Kurt pointed out exasperatedly. Maybe he should've gone to Brittany after all? “Considering I wanted to just explore for myself. _Remember_?”

She only huffed in reply, seemingly recalling that end of the deal and remembering that she had agreed to this and all and couldn't really complain, not yet at least.

Satisfied with her answer Kurt returned to his little line of kisses and love bites up her jaw towards her ear, where he decided to see what suckling on her earlobe would do. As it turned out it wasn't much; apart from a barely distinguishable shiver Kurt couldn't note any changes, but he journeyed on, determined to find out what would make girls – and Santana in particular as it seemed – scream out in pleasure.

In the end Kurt found out a lot of things about Santana. She didn't particularly like it when he paid any attention whatsoever to her neck and throat, but when he sucked and bit into _that_ special little piece of her collarbone she would moan out without control. And she didn't like it at _all_ when he tried to lick into her bellybutton, but she enjoyed the many minutes he devoted to caressing and exploring her breasts, and in particular her nipples.

Kurt could clearly remember Brittany telling him that one of her favorite kinks was having her armpits licked. Now, he had no idea in the least if this was just another thing that Santana shared with the blonde, or if it was some strange thing that _all_ girls shared, but he also had no desire to find _that_ specific fact out for himself.

Santana's armpits were to be left alone, and that was just that.

But he did explore every small inch of her arms and hands; stroking across the subtle biceps hidden beneath the surface, teasing the sensitive skin on her elbow that was apparently ticklish – something he noted for a later day when he might need it – and he laved his tongue over and between all of her freshly manicured fingers, practically blowing them as he sucked them into his mouth. Above him Santana was watching him bemusedly, if that little smirk she was wearing could be called that, but the hair on her body did stand up pleasantly, so he called it a win anyways.

The Latina's long legs were another thing entirely; whilst one inch of them could make her writhe in obvious arousal the next one almost left her kicking him – as apparent when she actually _did_ , most likely leaving what would become a giant bruise across his hip in just a few short hours. He took it in stride however, because he found that her thighs were almost as much fun to play with as her breasts had been; she was basically _writhing_ under him, squirming so much he had to physically restrain her with his arms to keep her even moderately still so he could continue.

Hastily turning the girl on her back Kurt had noted everything there was about her back and ass as well, how she seemed to adore when he bit into the dip of her back, how she liked it when he gripped her ass-cheeks hard in his sweating palms – but how she squirmed away ticklish when he mouthed over her spine.

There were millions of other little things that Kurt found and cataloged in his mind – like how Santana liked having her hair pulled; lightly, but not too hard, because then she would bitch him out for trying to pull out pieces of her weave. Like how her shins were capable of making her moan unabashedly, just like her little birthmark on her right hip. If he tried to lick or bite or kiss her left hip however, she would slap him over the head and tell him to stop that.

After that he had actually asked her if she wanted him to gag her, because he was sure he could find something suitable for the task somewhere in his room, to which she had only smirked and said, “I knew you were kinkier than you looked Hummel. Now get back to what you were doing, and no more trying to claw your way into my hip, I'll fucking rip your eyes out.”

Then there was at last only one more thing to explore; the thing this was pretty much all about in the end – her pussy. Bare – devoid of any hair apart from the small rectangle on top – and glistening with moist obscenely past those thick little folds that kept her hidden with a few drops of her juices dribbling down towards her ass.

Reaching his hands out Kurt carefully spread her pinkish lips apart, taking in the sight of her. Now, he'd never seen a vagina before, and certainly never this up close before, but he couldn't help to think that while it looked a little strange and just weird, it was also sort of beautiful. Her tight little hole clenching around nothing when it came into contact with the cold air, the way her small clit was innocently peeking out at him just a little bit – if that is what it even was, Kurt wasn't entirely sure, gay boy as he was and all – and the way she seemed to be just flooded with this shining, wet sheen had him admiring how pretty she looked as well as drooling, needing to taste her.

That would have to wait a little while though, because first of all he wanted to look at her as he let his fingers play and dance across her skin. And from the first little touch against her dribbling crease Santana was biting her lip hotly. Kurt didn't mind that much, he knew she was only trying to preserve her Queen Bitch attitude. And anyway, hopefully Kurt would be able to drag the sound out of her sooner or later. He'd rather work for it honestly than have her giving caution to the wind and moaning lewdly trying to rile him up instead if he asked for her to just let go. This way he would at least get the honest answers he wanted.

Rubbing his fingers gently against her clit he could feel the miniscule rock of her hips against his hand before she stilled, and he counted that as a huge win and began stroking the little nub even more fiercely between his fingers. He pinched it and he rolled it, he flicked it and he teased it; all of it making the fierce Latina give out small little proofs about how much she really enjoyed it, whether it be with another tiny roll of her hips, or a bitten off moan or whimper.

All of it was filed away in Kurt's mind no matter what.

Introducing a first, long finger to her tight hole had Santana squirming once more, and Kurt had to choke off a moan of his own at the feeling of that tight and surprisingly wet heat surrounding him. Her walls were slick, and not at all like what he felt like himself when he would tentatively try to finger himself; for while he was more or less smooth all over apart from the muscles in the very beginning she had these tiny little ridges, that while incredibly slick and satiny at first touch were surprisingly rough if he pressed hard enough.

And Santana seemed to really like it if he touched hard enough, especially so when he had his fingertip tilted towards the ceiling when he dragged his digit out – then she was practically shrieking behind her closed lips.

Aligning a second finger to the first one Kurt decided to lean down and take his first taste of the alto, her eyes trailed intently on him all the while, and he knew it – fed from it. She was astonishingly sweet to the taste; almost no hints of being salty like himself, with just a hint of something bitter in the aftertaste. Not altogether bad, in fact far better than he had previously suspected, and it would be no direct hardship for him to have her rather delicious flavor on his tongue for however long this would take him.

Lapping around the fingers dragging in and out of her spread apart hole Kurt felt his nose and chin bumping continuously into her sex, and he realized quickly that by the end of this Santana wouldn't be the only one sopping like a hydrant. He was already drenched in her juices, so just imagine how he would look after he was done and had satisfied his curiosity.

Tilting his head up slightly he was able to reach her clit with his lips, and he began to cautiously nip and suck the little bud into his mouth, rolling it carefully between his teeth as he listens to her throaty whimpers. Throwing caution to the wind he hallows his cheeks and suck the little nub furiously, and it finally makes Santana loose all control of herself, and she thrashes wildly beneath him, bucking up and away and closer still as she wails out how good she feels, how good Kurt is.

It's an ego boost to say the least, to know he is the one to make sex-goddess Santana Lopez flail like this because of him eating her out, knowing he is the _only one_ who has ever been able to do that. That he is the only one who even _tried_.

It doesn't take Kurt long to realize that he can't continue properly as long as the black-haired girl continues to thrash around like this, so he lays his unoccupied hand across the flat expanse of her stomach and presses her down against the bed, stilling her movements. As he keeps up his previous movements with his tongue and with his fingers Kurt can feel the way her muscles strains against him, still trying furiously to grind herself against his face. Almost pitying the girl and how long he'd been teasing her he acquaintances with her obvious wish, mushing his mouth even closer to her sex and lapping and sucking everything he can reach, even going so far that he tugs her pussy lips into his mouth and just _devours_ them, not really caring how tired his mouth is or how his jaw is aching from keeping it open so long.

He now has three thin fingers plunging deep into her wet depth, and he can feel the walls clenching around him every time he moves to pull them back out, like she is trying to keep him inside. Deep inside.

“G-God, Hummelina, whatever the hell you're doing, keep it up,” Santana tells him in between little choked off moans and one particularly high shriek that she tries to kill even as it slips past her lips, and Kurt knows that while Santana is not the kind of person to beg – at all – this is her asking him for something. She is asking him to make her come, and isn't that a picture for the history books?

So, sucking her clit back into his mouth he laves across the little bundle of nerves, all the while plunging his fingers into her wet cavern at a flying pace, his fingertips dragging against her walls and practically shoving her over the edge.

She screams as she comes, a clear liquid shooting straight past the fingers he has buried in her pussy, and it makes Kurt preen so much his cheeks hurt from how big he's smiling, knowing from Puck's stories that he has managed the impossible, he has done something that Puck himself hasn't; he has made Santana Lopez – Ice Bitch of the Cheerios – squirt.

All the while he's licking into her sex, though more gently, only easing her through her blinding orgasm. His fingers slows to a stop, but he keeps them in as she rocks her hips in time to the sparks flying through her body. The way her walls are clenching around him, keeping him there with a vice-like grip is heading, and he momentarily wonders how it would feel to be inside that for real. If it would feel as good as he imagines it to.

But neither does he have the will, nor does he have the time, because glancing at the clock he can tell his father will be home within the fallowing minutes if he isn't already, in which case things are about to get very awkward during dinner that night. Time would tell, Kurt supposes as he eases himself out of the bed to go wash himself up.

While he hasn't been that particularly hard during his exploration Kurt is surprised to finding just how _drunk_ he's looking. First of all his eyes are almost black, which is quite a feat considering how pale his eyes normally are. His hair is also in such a disarray Kurt is close to panicking thinking about it, knowing how long it will take to fix it. None of that is anything though in comparison to how his skin is glistening from the numerous different fluids coating it.

How his skin will punish him for doing this to it is something Kurt rather not think about at the moment, knowing he will need a full cleansing procedure later just to minimize any damage to it.

So washing his face off quickly Kurt brings with him a few wash cloths back to bed, handing them to Santana who is sitting cross-legged against his headboard. There is a huge wet spot further down the sheets, and Kurt blushes just thinking what brought it on, making Santana mutter out something along the line of 'virgins'.

“So, Lady Hummel,” Santana begins as she dries herself up. “Just know that if you ever doubt your placement on the Kinsley scale again, I am most definitely on the top of the list for you to defile.”

“Naw, Satan,” Kurt teases, fluttering his eyelashes at her, “are you saying you thought I was good? Really? I didn't think I'd ever see the day.”

“Well,” she sniffs haughtily, “There's a first for everything. Don't get your panties in a twist, it's not a good look for you.” She points at him, “And if you ever, and I mean ever, tell anybody that I said any of this, you know you will regret it. Remember, Lima Heights Adjacent, not a good place. Just saying.”

“I'll remember,” Kurt chuckles.

“Good,” Santana smiles briefly, if the tugging of the corner of her lips can be referred as that. She gets up from the bed and searches out the cheerio skirt that has fallen under the bed. “Now, I need to get going to Britt-Britt's, she's marrying her cats or something. Wanted them to have a 'winter wedding.' You,” she says, motioning to Kurt, “you need to come along, or else Brittany will get sad that you didn't. And I need the ride, so chop chop.”

“And why, pray tell, should I ever fallow you to a _cat wedding_ of all things?” Kurt wondered confusedly.

“Britt knows I'm here, and she will get disappointed if her favorite boyfriend won't come along.”

Kurt only rolls his eyes, which seems to be a theme of the night, and reluctantly agrees.

“Should I bring some cookies?” he asks, struggling his way into a clean pair of jeans. “One does bring gifts to a wedding, even if it's for cats, right?”

“Does it contain any form of catnip, cheese, eggs or chocolate?” is the only thing Santana asks in return.

“What does- never mind. Yeah, there's chocolate. No eggs though, only egg substitute. And certainly no catnip or cheese,” Kurt informs the Latina waiting for him by the stairs as he buttons up his shirt and searches for an appropriate scarf.

“Good, then bring them. It'll be a good distraction when Britt won't be able to find Charity. Just keep them in the car until then, otherwise she'll tell you that Lord Tubbington won't eat it, not unless there's cheese in it. So, ready to go Twinkle-Toes?”

Kurt heaves a sigh, how does Santana even have the time to come up with all these nick-names for him?

“Guess so.”


End file.
